


Running Toward Love

by lasairfhiona



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AO3 1 Million, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-16
Updated: 2014-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-12 15:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1190079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasairfhiona/pseuds/lasairfhiona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint follows Bruce and they and up traveling together and learning something about each other. </p><p>Avengers tables<br/>Bruce Banner/Hulk<br/>On the Run</p><p>Thanks to sharpiesgal for the title.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running Toward Love

For months he followed Bruce always staying out of sight, just watching. Logically, he knew Bruce didn't need taken care of.  The 'other guy' was more than capable of taking care of Bruce. But still he watched. He'd freely admit at first he was just curious about Bruce. He knew Hulk but he really didn't know Bruce. Just the little bits between the end of the battle and when the scientist left and most of his time was spent in almost hostile debriefings.  

As soon as he was free he took off after Bruce, following him from city to city and country to country, taking every back channel entrance into a country or just quietly slipping across a border in places where borders really didn't matter. It was obvious Bruce knew his way around avoiding detection as well as any SHIELD agent.  Not that he'd ever report that.  It wasn't why he was here and wasn't his concern.  Not anymore. Following Bruce as the scientist ran from Ross and SHIELD or more importantly the WSC was what was keeping him from eating a bullet. 

He was well into his fourth month of following Bruce when he found the note stuck to the tree house he'd made outside of where Bruce was working and living. "Come in from the rain," the note said and when he left his leaky home to take Bruce up on his offer, he was greeted with a big cup of coffee made the way he liked it with cream and a dash of cinnamon. It was a slice of heaven in the dingy backwoods village they were in. 

He warmed up and dried off and for two days while the rain pounded on the tin roof they played cards or read.  Neither one of them felt the need for conversation and didn't talk beyond the niceties needed to get through the day and the occasional exclaimed, "Gin," or "Rummy." There really wasn't anything for either of them to discuss. They'd read each others files and Bruce understood what had him running as far and as fast as he could from SHIELD. Just like he understood why Bruce had left. 

When the rain let up, he went back to watching, this time in plain sight and when Bruce moved on, he did as well, often on the same, plane, train, or bus until they would light in some village where Bruce felt he could do some good. If there was manual labor to be done, he would often pitch in, often working shoulder to shoulder with Bruce. If there wasn't then he would sit nearby and watch. Sometimes he'd carve something for the children that would congregate around him, other times he'd drink whatever local beverage there was in hope it would stop him from feeling. 

They bartered or traded services for what they needed. Only using the copious amounts of money Tony had somehow managed to stuff into both their bags when they had no other option. And they absolutely never turned on the Stark phones that came along with the cash. They treated both as the safety net Tony had intended them to be for emergencies or when they got tired of running from their demons.

They had been doing this whole running, following, not travelling together but going the same direction thing they were doing for months when Bruce grabbed him by his jacket and pulled him into the hut they were given in  saying, "Enough is enough. If we're going to do whatever this is we're doing, we are going to do it together."

And thus began his slide down the slippery slope to hell. When he was on the outside, he didn't have to see Bruce's lean muscled body stripped down to nothing as he slid between the sheets. Or see the sheets twisted in Bruce's legs in the morning, leaving him more exposed than covered. And he most certainly wouldn't have to watch as Bruce would pull his shorts on and know every time he looked at the scientist that there was nothing under the quick drying material but skin. But no, sharing the grass hut meant he got to see in Technicolor so to speak what he'd been avoiding and didn't help his growing attraction to Bruce. Or the feelings of guilt for being attracted to someone so soon after Phil's death.

They worked their way north through Africa helping where they could. Healing sickness and injuries, teaching and learning themselves.  They laughed about finding "Rick's Place" when they found themselves in Casablanca. 

The first anniversary of "The Battle of Manhattan" found them in Athens, after having decided to stop running. Bruce did practical things like arranging for a laundry service and calling Tony to let someone know they were both still alive and well. He sat on the roof of their hotel in the Plaka, stared at the Parthenon, and debated how drunk he was going to get.

He understood why everyone wanted to celebrate but he'd rather forget. Forget what Loki did for him. Forget what he did for Loki. The only good thing that came from his time on the run was Bruce. 

The past year had been a lesson in restraint. Restraining himself from making himself known. Restraining himself from getting too close. Restraining himself from taking advantage of their situation because if he hadn't been attracted to Bruce before, he was now. 

But then maybe it was time to stop denying himself and go for what he wanted. The denial routine hadn't worked for him before. And if the events of the last year had taught him one thing it was that life was too short to not go for something you wanted. Downing the last of his beer, he pushed himself up from the lounger and headed back down to their room. 

He walked in to see Bruce, fresh from the shower, water still clinging to his body, as he pulled on a pair of shorts. Closing the door behind him, he watched as Bruce turned toward him, his zipper still undone. He followed the line of dark hair as it disappeared into the V of the cloth and a hint of Bruce's soft cock. 

"Clint?"

Dragging his eyes from the tantalizing sight of what was hidden just beyond the V opening of Bruce's shorts to look up at his friend.  "Yeah," he finally said as Bruce zipped his shorts and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded, still not having moved from where he stood leaning on the door he'd just closed. "Yeah," he answered. "I did some thinking while I was trying to drown myself in alcohol."

"Come to any decisions?"

"Yeah," he answered smiling, before he pushed away from the door and walked forward. "I decided it was time to stop running."

"I thought we'd already decided that."

"Yeah... But that's not the running I'm talking about," he stated before motioning between them, "I'm talking about this.  It's time to stop running from whatever it is between us."

"Oh," Bruce told him with a smile.

He knew Bruce was going to make him make the first move. So he did. He pushed Bruce back on the bed and lay next to him before kissing him and running his hand along the waist band of the tan shorts before skimming downward to slip his hand up under the loose legs.

"It's about time," Bruce muttered against his neck.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," he said kissing Bruce's collar bone.

"You needed to grieve and heal. I understand that."

"Thank you," he said rising up to look at Bruce.

Bruce nodded at him before pulling him down for another kiss, sealing what hadn't been said and maybe not needing to be said after all.

He pulled back and stood up to strip his clothes off leaving them in a heap on the floor before leaning over Bruce to give him a quick kiss before slowly lowering the zipper of Bruce's shorts and stripping them off, adding them to the heap of clothing on the floor.  Bruce hadn't moved he stayed sprawled on the bed where he'd left him. He smiled down at the scientist before leaning down and running his hands up Bruce's hairy legs and grabbing his hardening cock.

As he lay covering Bruce's body, he realized how well they fit together and knew that he had finally come home. He'd stopped running from memories and the look on Bruce's face told him Bruce had realized the same thing. And just maybe while they had been running from their demons, they had also been running toward one another. 


End file.
